Post navigation

I have Jesus Christ Superstar on the brain. On. the. brain. I just can’t get enough of it. I love how human Judas is in the play/movie. He’s a real person with frustrations and justifications, real, true anger and real, true love. We know how it’s going to go. We know his fate before the movie even begins. And then I’m always so happy to see him show up again, all be-fringed and belting it out toward the end of the movie. So what does this have to do with the Cenacolo di Sant’Apollonia in Florence? I’ll tell you: the Judas in Andrea del Castagno‘s Last Supper there is about as far from the Jesus Christ Superstar Judas as you can get. But let’s step back for a minute. Here’s the painting:

It probably looks familiar – not exactly the same as Leonardo’s more famous, and later, version, but the format is similar. Andrea del Castagno’s Last Supper, again like Leonardo’s, is in a refectory (the place where monks/nuns eat in a monastery or convent, “cenacolo” in Italian) in a convent in Florence. Whether or not you’ve seen it before, take a moment and bask in its amazingness. Continue reading →

Ever since my recent visit to Istanbul, Kaaba tiles have been swirling around in my mind. I first discovered them during a trip to Turkey two years ago, when I thought that I’d get home and look them up on the magical interwebs and find information and images to sift through to my heart’s delight. Not so much. Before we go further, here’s one, from the Mosque of Rustem Pasa (in Istanbul):

Kaaba tile, Mosque of Rustem Pasa, Istanbul

Just look at it for a minute – see the Kaaba (the black rectangle) in the middle? See the minarets around the outside? See how there are six? Well, a seventh one was added to the actual mosque that surrounds the Kaaba after the Blue Mosque (Mosque of Sultan Ahmed) in Istanbul was built with six minarets. Of course, the mosque at Mecca, the center of Islam, had to have one more. So a seventh one was built at the Al-Masjid al-Haram (surrounding the Kaaba and meaning “the sacred mosque”) in 1629. Does that mean that this tile dates to before 1629? It seems like it must, but as with most questions about these tiles, then again, it may not.

This post is part of a celebration in honor of Hasan Niyazi, the writer behind Three Pipe Net (see below), and his favorite artist, Raphael. For more contributions to this collection by some fabulous art history writers, blogger, and teachers, click here.

I’ll be honest. I’ve never been a big fan of Raphael, and I never thought I’d write about him. Too sweet, too stable, too predictable. When I was studying the Italian Renaissance, I was more into the bad boys: Michelangelo, Caravaggio, Fra Lippo Lippi (who I would put in the bad boy category, monk or no). So when I started blogging and connected with Hasan Niyazi of Three Pipe Problem, I had a hard time understanding his passion for Raphael. Don’t get me wrong – I was inspired by and respected his passion. It was the object of his passion that baffled me. But as I started writing this and thinking about Raphael again, I remembered the Stanza della Segnatura (part of the Stanze di Raffaello, rooms in the Vatican painted by Raphael and his workshop). When I went back to look at what Hasan had to say about this painting, I couldn’t find a post that centered around it. I did, however, find the Schools of Athens (one of the works in the Stanza della Segnatura) referenced in a post about a documentary on Raphael (in which Hasan reiterates his disdain for “those talented miscreants, the Pre-Raphaelites [and] their childish choice of name”); a mention in a post on the artist as subject (Raphael included himself in the School of Athens); in a post in which he ran a contest, asking people to answer the question, “Which famous Rock group features a reference to Raphael’s School of Athens on an album cover. What was the album name? Hint: it was a double album”; and in a post on the evolution of Raphael’s style in which he says, “Whether Raphael’s striving for classical perfection gels with you or not, it is hard to argue against the fact that he had supreme technical ability as a painter. This ability, his positive outlook on learning from the past, and talent for adapting these lessons into innovations gave him a special place in the hearts and minds of scholars and creative artists alike.” This was a man who loved his Raphael.

So, in memory and celebration Hasan and Raphael, let me tell you briefly what I love about the Stanza della Segnatura.

First, the paintings are frescoes, my favorite paint medium. The way that the paint becomes one with the wall is a fascinating process. I can’t get enough of it. Second, the paintings in this room are essentially part of the architecture; the scenes are meant to look as if they extend back from the room, and I think they do. Don’t you feel like you could step up into that scene?